


Post-Game

by tridecaphilia



Category: The Maze Runner (2014), The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Athletes, Caretaking, Lacrosse, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-15
Updated: 2015-04-15
Packaged: 2018-03-23 03:16:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3752410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tridecaphilia/pseuds/tridecaphilia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Newt thinks no one noticed his limp getting worse. He didn't count on his boyfriend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Post-Game

**Author's Note:**

> I asked my friends for ships and AUs. This one's for Sam, who prompted a minewt lacrosse AU.

“Sit down.”

Newt blinked up at Minho. His boyfriend did not look impressed. His arms were folded over his chest and his eyes were narrowed. All in all, he looked annoyed, and Newt couldn’t for the life of him figure out what he’d done to annoy him.

“Why?” he asked tentatively.

Minho’s eyes narrowed further. “Sit down or I’m picking you up.”

“What?” Newt sputtered.

“Last chance.” Minho stepped forward.

Without really thinking about it, Newt sat down.

Minho sat down beside him and without warning yanked his leg up onto his lap. Newt yelped.

“Calm down,” Minho muttered. His hands encircled Newt’s ankle and before Newt could object, he was kneading his calf, callused fingers digging gently into the sore muscles.

“Saw you wincing around the second period,” he said. “Coach might not’ve benched you, but he would’ve if he’d seen.”

Newt sighed, leaning back on his hands on the locker room bench. “It’s fine,” he muttered, but there wasn’t much conviction in the words. Minho wasn’t an overly affectionate boyfriend. Things like this surprised him every time.

“Better?” Minho asked softly.

Newt nodded. “Better.”

“Good,” Minho said.

Newt had his eyes closed, so he didn’t notice Minho leaning in until warm lips met his. He hummed, leaning into the kiss.

Minho pulled back a few moments later. “You know it’s not your fault,” he said softly.

Newt opened his eyes again, nodding. “I know.”

“Seriously.” Another brief kiss. “It wasn’t. Your. Fault.”

Newt didn’t look convinced, so Minho kept going. “You’re one person on a team. They got all those goals past Gally, they blocked everything from me. Don’t think you’re the crux on which the whole world turns. Thinking like that’s why your leg is bad to begin with.”

Newt sighed. “I know,” he muttered. “I know.” But it’s a lot easier to remember that when they didn’t just lose a game so badly. He looked at Minho. “Make me stop thinking?” he asked.

Minho obliged.


End file.
